


A Smart Mouth Never Earned Any Donuts

by therjolras



Category: Fantastic Four (2015)
Genre: Asexual Johnny Storm, Banter, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gen, Teenagers With Large Vocabularies, benreed isn't a thing but everyone thinks it should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5000113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therjolras/pseuds/therjolras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started like this: Ben called Reed. "So, fun story. Remember our baby? The one I devoted the last seven years of my life to? It's being deported."</p><p>Or: We all meet the squad, Johnny has a thing about nicknames, and the Fantastic Four has its real first mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Smart Mouth Never Earned Any Donuts

**Author's Note:**

> This took longer than anticipated. 'Tis the way with fic, I suppose. This is dedicated to Jo and the rest of the fantfourstic swiss family robinson; may we all continue to live in denial and enjoy the wasted potential we have been given. 
> 
> Josh Trank, Fox, and Marvel Studios can have these dear children back when they think about what they've done. (not a word from you, Jo.)

It started like this: Ben called Reed. Because Ben was Ben, his number was the only one in Reed’s phone programmed to actually _ring_. It rang on Friday afternoon (Reed only actually figured out the time later), and he was so excited about it that he almost dropped his coffee all over his and Johnny’s workstation.

“Woa, butterfingers, watch the equipment!” Johnny yelped, and confiscated Reed’s coffee. Reed immediately started trying to fish his phone from his pocket with both free hands. It didn’t work, and he tried it one-handed as Johnny lectured him about safety precautions and _get a damn lid, Einstein_. Reed successfully retrieved his phone.

“Sorry, Johnny, I gotta take this,” he said. He took a step or two away from the workstation and accepted the call, excitement-- or possibly an accelerated heartbeat-- pounding high in his throat. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hey, buddy, yourself,” Ben said on the other end. “So, fun story. You know our baby? The one we devoted the last seven years of our lives to?”

“Ye-es?” Reed said. Ben sounded cheerful, but his lead-up made it sound like a serious conversation.

“It’s being deported.”

“ _What_?” Reed squawked. Then he realized his mistake and glanced back at the workstation. Johnny was staring at him. He’d actually been joined by Sue for some reason or other, and both Storms were staring at him.

“Your mom’s laying claim to the garage again, tearing down our whole setup,” Ben said. “I helped, just to make sure she didn’t tear a hole in the fabric of space-time, but now the shuttle’s homeless. There’s only so long I can keep it safe at mine, you know?”

Reed knew. Ben’s home was in a constant state of flux, nothing permanent and nothing sacred.  “We can keep it here,” Reed said. “I’ve got plenty of room. But mom’s got my car, and there’s no way in hell we can take it on the train.”

“ _Hell_ no,” Ben said.

“I could probably borrow--” Reed began.

“No.”

“What?”

“No, you’re not borrowing someone’s car,” Ben said. “How many hours of sleep have you had recently?”

Reed began to calculate. There were a lot of fractions. “Er--”

“My point exactly,” Ben said. “You’re not driving anywhere.”

 _Especially in someone’s else’s car_ went unsaid. Reed sighed and rubbed his eyes, knocking his glasses askew; he straightened them and said, “Okay, tell you what. Give me five minutes and I’ll call you back. We’ll figure something out.”

“You got it, buddy,” Ben said. “I’ll toss some ideas around on this end. Best solution wins.”

“Game on,” Reed said dryly, and hung up. He needed more coffee for this. A _lot_ more coffee. “Johnny, where’s my coffee?” He said, turning around and pocketing his phone. Johnny held it out and Reed snatched it from his hand, taking a long drink and barely flinching at the heat and the acrid taste. (One eventually got used to those.)

“So,” Sue said. “What’s up with your boyfriend?” Reed choked on his coffee.

“That wasn’t my boyfriend,” he said. “It was Ben.” Sue gave him a look like, no _duh._

“So, what’s up?” She said. “Looks serious.”

Reed handed his coffee back to Johnny and pushed his glasses up into his hair. “My mom’s renovating the garage where the prototype teleporter was set up, so the whole thing needs to be moved and Ben can’t keep it and be sure it’ll be safe.” He rubbed his eyes again. “I can keep it here, I’ve got the space, but Ben doesn’t have a car and I’m apparently not allowed to drive.”

“You’re definitely not allowed to drive,” Sue said. “I don’t remember the last time I saw you catch a break, let alone sleep.”

“I can pick it up,” Johnny said.

“What?” Reed pushed his glasses back down and looked at Johnny. Johnny said,

“I can pick it up. Need some fresh air, anyway.” He shrugged. Reed’s mind was still stuck on _I can pick it up._

“You’d seriously do that,” he said.

“Yeah, sure,” Johnny said. Like it was no biggie. It probably was no biggie to Johnny-- just a chance to get out of the lab.

“Okay,” Reed said. “Okay. Let’s do that.”

“One condition,” Sue cut in.

“What?” Johnny said.

“You take _my_ car.”

==

Johnny Storm wasn’t an idiot. What’s more, he knew his sister wasn’t an idiot. Both of these facts meant that he understood Sue’s point about taking _her_ car rather than one of his. Honestly, though, he had his dignity to worry about; he couldn’t be going and meeting people he’d probably meet again in Sue’s stupid SUV. First impressions, come on. Johnny peered out the windshield across the dark yard, making out the shapes of smaller debris and the larger, looming shape of the house pockmarked with squares of light. Farther behind Johnny and Sue’s hideous car the junkyard sign shone, reflecting GRI M in his rearview mirror: someone had apparently managed to knock the middle letter out.

Johnny patted his jacket pocket and felt the shape of a switchblade there. He took the keys from the ignition and got out of the car. Gravel and broken glass and possibly aluminum crunched under his feet as he picked his way across the yard up to the sagging porch, which groaned when he climbed the stairs. He knocked on the door: There was the sound of heavy footsteps on the other side, and then the door was wrenched open. Johnny tilted his head up to meet the eye of a scrawny buzzed-headed white kid wearing a sneer.

“I’m looking for Ben,” Johnny said. The kid (scratch that, this guy had to be at least five, seven years Johnny’s senior) looked him up and down once and leaned past him out the door to shout,

“Benny, you got a friend!”

Somewhere across the yard, someone shouted an affirmative: Johnny turned to look and saw the silhouette of a person moving across the yard in the long shaft of light from the open door. Johnny’s welcoming committee turned away, leaving the door hanging open behind him. Johnny waited as the silhouette resolved into an actual person that climbed the sagging stairs to the porch and looked Johnny up and down, a baseball bat swinging freely from his right hand. Jonny thought about the missing letter on the sign and was impressed. “You Ben Grimm?” He said.

“You Johnny?” Ben shot back. Johnny nodded. They shook hands. “Stuff’s inside,” Ben said, jerking his head towards the door. “Give me a hand?”

“Sure, man,” Johnny said.

Ben led the way into the house; Johnny followed, closing the door behind him. The entry led straight into the living area, where Johnny’s welcoming committee was sprawled out on the dilapidated sofa; When he caught sight of Johnny, a slow smile spread across his face. “Nice ride, soccer mom,” he called after them. Ben ignored him. Johnny seethed.

“It’s not a bad car,” Ben said as they climbed the stairs.

“It’s my sister’s,” Johnny said. “You met Sue, right?”

“Small, blonde, kinda cute, standoffish on the side?” Ben said. “Reckon so.”

“Watch where you throw that term ‘small’, Keebler. What happened, did you never eat your vegetables? Or are the myths true and caffeine really stunts your growth?”

“Short jokes, real original,” Ben said. “You remember I’m the one with the bat?”

“Resorting to violence, real original,” Johnny shot back. Ben snorted and prodded the door at the top of the landing open with the bat. It swung open and hung there. Ben entered; Johnny lingered in the doorway. Reed’s comment about the prototype gate not being safe at Ben’s had not sailed over his head, and it didn’t take an idiot to realize why, but what appeared to be Ben’s room brought the information to a new level of depressing. The whole place was set up like the kid was ready to leave any moment.

“You heard about the change of plan, right?” Ben said. He was already loaded up with two squat cardboard boxes and a backpack; the remaining box, which was taller and squarer, sat at his feet. The bat was nowhere to be seen.

“Yeah,” Johnny said. “You’re tagging along to make sure I don’t blow up your baby.” He made airquotes at the term ‘baby’. Ben nodded and kicked at the remaining box.

“That one’s for you,” he said. “Nothing personal, incidentally. I wouldn’t trust it to anyone else who broke their arm street racing, either.”

“That story’s gonna haunt me for the rest of my life,” Johnny groaned. “I’ve never met you before in my life and you’re telling it back to me.”

“Reed told me,” Ben said matter-of-factly, and started out the door as Johnny collected the last box. It was heavy as _shit_. Ben seemed to have no trouble with his load; he jogged down the stairs and paused long enough to call a farewell and “see you on Monday!” to his mother before kicking the door open and leading the way back into the yard. Johnny followed him. Between the two of them they unlocked the back of Sue’s hideous SUV and loaded the various pieces of the prototype gate in, and Johnny started said hideous SUV and got himself, the prototype gate, and Ben the hell out of there. As they turned out onto the highway Johnny glanced at the shotgun seat: Ben was reclining, eyes closed and breathing easy; he glanced over again ten minutes later, and Ben was asleep.

==

The car jerked, and Ben started awake. In the driver’s seat, Johnny shifted gears into park and shut off the motor before looking over at Ben. “Evening, Sleeping Beauty,” he said. “Nice nap?”

“What’d I miss?” Ben said, sitting up and unbuckling. There was a concrete pier outside his window: they were in a parking garage. Johnny reported,

“You slept the whole way. We’re not dead and it’s mainly because no one will race with someone who’s got a sleeping passenger. Congratulations, you did your job.”

“I’m choosing to ignore that second bit,” Ben said. “We going?”

“We’re going, we’re going,” Johnny said, and took the keys from the ignition before climbing out. Ben grabbed his things and followed him. They unloaded the prototype shuttle again (Ben let Johnny carry both boxes of cables, paneling, notes, and general light things for the second trip) and made their way through the depths of the parking garage (it was bigger than Ben’s entire house). There was no security checkpoint to get through at the elevator; Johnny just hit the button and they climbed in. Ben rested his box, which contained the majority of the prototype, on the railing.

“No security check?” He said.

Johnny scoffed. “Handled that at the gate, while you were napping. You fall asleep in other people’s cars often?”

“I’m not even in other people’s cars that often,” Ben replied. “You crash your own cars that often?”

“That was one time, man,” Johnny said. “The engine blew, wasn’t my fault.”

“That so,” Ben said. “Reed said you built that car yourself?”

“With tender, loving care,” Johnny said.

“What engine model did you have?”

“A very volatile one, apparently.”

It took few more prods to get Johnny to realize Ben knew his way around an engine block, and by that time the elevator had stopped. Johnny spent the walk to Reed’s room breaking down the specs of his precious car for Ben. Ben liked what he heard; if Johnny could find himself a less volatile engine block, or maybe not push what he had to the limits again, he’d have something going for him.

When they got to Reed’s door, it was locked.

“Don’t bother knocking,” Ben said, setting down his box. “I told him he’d better be asleep when I got here, and he sleeps like the dead. I got a key.” He produced said spare key, on his keychain, and showed it to Johnny. Johnny shook his head.

“See, I don’t get this,” he said. “How are you two _not_ dating?”

“He’s my best friend, I’m his-- was his-- only friend. Why compromise that?” Ben said, with a shrug, and unlocked the door.

“Okay, that makes sense, but I still don’t get it,” Johnny said, as Ben picked his box up again and towed it the five feet from the door to the empty space by Reed’s desk. Johnny followed and set his load down. Reed’s room was dark; Ben could see a person-shaped lump on the bed, but a full assessment would have to wait. “Alright,” he said. “Thanks, Johnny.”

“No problem,” Johnny said. “You’re sticking around for the weekend?”

“Yeah,” Ben said. “No class ‘til Tuesday. See you around?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said. “See you.” Ben looked up at him long enough to nod farewell and watch the door close. Then he kicked off his shoes and shed his jacket and backpack, and crossed the room to fall into bed next to Reed. The motion didn’t disturb Reed in the slightest. Ben disregarded the need for a pillow and dropped his head straight onto the mattress; within minutes he was asleep.

==

Sue didn’t hear the door opening, but she felt the tremor when Johnny tapped the table. She pulled out her earbuds and paused twenty one pilots mid-beat, looking her brother over: he didn’t look at all recently damaged. “Hey.”

“Evening, wonder girl,” he replied, and dropped the keys on the table. “Or maybe it’s morning. You know, I hear it’s “everyone goes to bed day” on the gate project?”

“Sounds exciting,” Sue said. She collected her keys and pocketed them, treating him to another look.

“Not a scratch,” Johnny said, with all sincerity. Then he added, “Didn’t want to wake up the passenger. I’m telling you, today’s really setting up for getting a full night’s sleep. Cut yourself a break, sleep in tomorrow. It’s the weekend.” Sue glanced at her phone. Sure enough, it was 1 am on Saturday morning.

“What do you know,” she said. “It’s the weekend. Maybe you have a point.”

“I rest my case,” Johnny said. “Come on, stop turning into Reed and rejoin the real world. He won’t even be working this weekend, not with his not-boyfriend here.”

“Bet they’re gonna want guided tours,” Sue said dryly, pushing away from the work surface. “I’m getting tired just thinking about it.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Johnny said as she rolled her earbuds up and cleared her work away. “Hey, they’ve got that student-body-wide Halloween party tomorrow, want to come?”

“Tomorrow’s not Halloween,” Sue said.

“Wow, so literal,” Johnny said. “Halloween’s next week, but _normal_ college students will take any excuse to get drunk and forget their worries. If there’s candy and costumes involved, the more the better.” Sue scoffed.

“I don’t think I’m very well prepared for a Halloween party,” she said.

“I dunno, that buzzkill costume of yours is pretty impressive-- oh, wait.” He false-glowered at her. Sue laughed.

“I feel so guilted,” she said. “Maybe, how about that. Maybe I’ll go.” They could take a day off, couldn’t they? Especially if their Fearless Leader wouldn’t be in. The compromise was enough for Johnny, who whooped and held his hand out for a high-five. Sue gave him a high-five.

“Walk with me,” she said, collecting her things and making for the door. “Tell me about Reed’s not-boyfriend. I want to know everything about the magical person who could persuade Reed to get off work.”

“He’d be the one to do it,” Johnny said, following her out the door. He paused and waited as Sue locked the lab, seemingly mulling over the strange being that was Ben Grimm. “He’s short. Like, ridiculous short. And when he says something, you know he means it. I reckon he’s sarcastic as hell in his head-- I saw that look in his eyes.” Sue laughed.

“Short, quiet, scary as hell,” she said. “Short hair, kinda buff, pretty?” Johnny fell in step as she made for the elevator, thinking about the question.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he said.

Sue nodded. “He was with Reed at the science fair this summer,” she said. “And he _totally_ maddogged Dad and I. I have never been more wary of a short guy in my life.” Johnny laughed.

“That man is one to be afraid of,” he said. “I’m calling it now. Don’t piss him off. Just don’t do it.” He hit the elevator button with more energy than was necessary. Sue said,

“I’m pretty sure he’s taken. Even if they’re both in outright denial, he’s taken.”

“ _Shut_ up,” Johnny said, and Sue burst out laughing. “Shut _up,_ ” Johnny said again. “I swear to god, that is not what I meant.”

“You didn’t deny that he was pretty,” Sue said.

“I wouldn’t deny that anyone was pretty, if they actually were,” Johnny said. “I wouldn’t deny that you were pretty, either, and in forward-thinking societies there’s only one way someone’s brain would go with that.”

“Touche,” The elevator doors opened. They climbed in and Sue hit the button for the residential wing. Johnny had another bit of a chortle, and Sue assumed it was over her observing that he thought Ben Grimm was pretty.

“Do you think of all pretty people that way?” She said. “I don’t remember you ever considering someone pretty in the, well, the other way. Not that I’ve been around you much recently, but my point stands.”

“No, you’re right,” Johnny said. “I don’t remember thinking of people the other way, not anytime recently.”

“Huh.” Sue nodded. “Cool.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” Sue said.

“Okay,” Johnny said. “Cool.” They rode upward in comfortable silence until they reached Johnny’s floor, and when the doors opened Sue bade him goodnight. He said goodnight back and stepped out, and Sue lapsed back into thought as the doors closed and the elevator continued upwards. It was nice, mulling over something that wasn’t work for a change.

==

There was an unholy hammering at the door. Reed squeezed his eyes tight and hoped they’d go away. The knocking persisted, and Reed tried to ignore it. Then, just as the knocker shouted something about burning daylight-- it was Johnny, of course it was Johnny-- the bed bucked. Someone landed on the floor and stomped over to the door, and Reed was completely awake. He pried his eyes open and fumbled for his glasses and watched the intruder stomp up to the door and wrench it open and grumble, “Bring back coffee and then we’ll talk,” and Reed’s heart leapt. He shoved his glasses on and bounded across the room, and as Ben closed the door and turned away Reed pounced on him. To hug him, but there was pouncing involved.

“Good morning,” he said, when Ben hugged him back. He was deliriously happy, over the friggin’ moon with happiness. Ben just grunted in lieu of a reply and hugged him tighter. Reed never wanted to let go; he’d almost forgotten what Ben’s hugs felt like, and that was unacceptable. Ben’s hugs were the best of anyone’s.

After a long moment, Ben let go. He let go with a huff and looked Reed up and down like he’d done a million times, making an assessment of Reed’s health and state of mind, probably. Reed felt like he ought to get decent marks; he’d remembered to eat the night before and he’d changed out of his day clothes. Ben was still wearing jeans and a t-shirt, which meant he’d fallen straight into bed upon arrival. Probably. Finally Ben huffed. “You need more sleep,” he said, and dragged Reed down to his level to ruffle his hair. “Miss me?”

“Every day,” Reed said. Ben smiled, groggy and bright enough to power Manhattan. Reed grabbed his arm and walked them both back to bed, and Ben gratefully followed. He claimed Reed’s pillow for himself and lay back facing the ceiling, and Reed sat crosslegged by his knees just enjoying his presence.

“Did you like Johnny?” He said. “Or not like him, but. What did you think?”

“I think he’s probably a  bad influence,” Ben said. “But not horrible.”

“I think you’ll like Sue,” Reed said. “She’s quiet and kind of scary, and really smart.” It occurred to Reed as he listed Sue’s merits that she shared those merits with Ben. That was cool. Ben wasn’t a science wiz, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t smart-- he was probably smarter than Reed.

“She sounds cool,” Ben said. “I met her, though. At the science fair, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Reed said. Someone knocked on the door. “I’ve got it,” Reed said, and launched himself off the bed and crossed to the door, pulling it open. Johnny was on the other side: he presented a tray of coffee and a pastry bag.

“I come bearing victuals,” he said. “Let me in.” The sight of coffee was enough for Reed: he let Johnny in.

Johnny promptly claimed the desk chair, from which he distributed coffee and pastries. Reed got two coffees; one went to  Ben who sat up to accept it and promptly spluttered at the taste.

“This shit,” he announced, “tastes like motor oil.”

“You get used to it after a while,” Johnny said. “The doughnuts are fine,” he added, when Ben distrustfully eyed the one offered. “They might even improve the taste of the coffee.”

“I’ll be very impressed if they pull _that_ off,” Ben said, and took the doughnut. Reed drank his coffee without complaint. It really did taste like motor oil.

“So,” Johnny said. “I presume the gate project’s on hold for the weekend?”

“Well,” Reed began, at the same time that Ben said, “Yes.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to see it?” Reed said. “We’re so close as is--”

“Then you can wait ‘til then,” Ben said. “I’m not seeing it ‘til it’s finished. It’ll ruin the magic.”

“Technically it’s not magic,” Reed began, and stopped when Ben rolled his eyes.

“I think he knows,” Johnny said.

“Right, right, figure of speech,” Reed said. Ben rolled his eyes again and took another drink of coffee, pulling a face. Reed remembered his own period of adjustment to the horrible stuff and felt for him. “We can get some real coffee later,” he said. “If you want.”

“That,” Ben said, “Sounds amazing.”

“Field trip!” Johnny said. “Speaking of, if work’s on hold, there’s the student’s Halloween party tonight.”

“Seriously?” Reed said. His memory of Halloween at home was primarily made up of cheesy childhood trick-or-treat costumes and parties he wasn’t invited to but Ben was, so neither of them went. A quick glance exchanged with Ben told him Ben was thinking the same thing.

Johnny nodded. “Not surprised you didn’t hear about it, Jimmy Neutron, considering you’re too busy changing the world to get into “casual conversations”, quote-unquote, but I actually talk to people, so I found out that it’s tonight, bring your own booze, cool people come in costume.”

“Apparently college has redefined the word “cool’,” Ben said. He added to Reed, “Bit short notice.”

“Yeah, a bit,” Reed said. “Sounds fun, though.”

“Yeah, a bit,” Ben said. They both nodded. Ben said, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Are you two psychic?” Johnny said. Reed didn’t think they were, but he said, “Maybe,” at the same time that Ben said it. Johnny groaned.

“You can’t say ‘maybe’ in perfect sync and claim you’re not psychic,” he said. Ben chuckled.

“It’s technically not psychic ability,” he said. “But if it makes you feel any better, you can call it that.”

“I feel so much better about the situation now that you’ve said that,” Johnny said. “Okay, The Shining, following consumption of coffee and various goodies, a plan for acquiring Halloween costumes would probably be good. And if it doesn’t involve Susie, she’ll probably skin us.”

“That’s a good reason to include her,” Ben said.

“He means good plan,” Reed added.

“I got that impression.” Johnny took a swig of coffee, pulled a face, and set it down. “Man, you need to stop talking about real coffee, I’m getting put off. I want some real coffee. Do you guys want some real coffee?”

“Yes,” Reed and Ben said at once. Johnny rolled his eyes again, probably at Ben and Reed being unnecessarily in sync, and took the last doughnut.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m gonna call Sue. Neutron, you’re gonna put on some real clothes, and both of you meet me in the lobby in ten minutes, we’re getting real coffee. Good?”

“Good,” Ben said. “Reed?”

“Yeah,” Reed said, and took another drink of coffee before attempting to get up and getting caught in the blanket. Johnny made his timely exit as Ben rescued Reed. Ten minutes later Reed was wearing so-called “real clothes” and Ben had thrown away all the horrible coffee, and they arrived in the Baxter lobby to find Sue and Johnny already present. Sue looked like she’d been rolled out of bed, which, considering, was possible. Reed waved at her. She shook her head at him and waved back.

“We’re taking Sue’s car,” Johnny announced. “We wouldn’t all fit in a taxi, anyway.”

“Unsure which would be harder: fitting four of us into a taxi, or finding a parking spot,” Sue said. Johnny snorted.

“Is Victor coming?” Reed said.

“I did not call Scrooge,” Johnny said. “He’s a dick all the time, but he’s a _real_ dick in the mornings. Sorry, Sue.” Sue flapped a hand dismissively. Johnny went on, “Anyway, taking your car is a better option than trying to clown-car our way to Starbucks.”

“Theoretically,” Sue shot back. “On the one hand--”

“Oh, please, don’t try to science this,” Johnny groaned. “It’s our day off.”

“Haven’t you heard?” Ben said cheerfully. “No such thing as a day off from science.”

“He’s right,” Reed said. “Science never takes a day off.” Ben and Sue laughed. Johnny facepalmed.

“I’m friends with a bunch of _nerds_ ,” he groaned. “I haven’t had enough coffee for this. Are we getting coffee? Are we really getting coffee?”

“We’re getting coffee,” Sue said. “Come on, let’s get coffee. And Johnny, you’d better remember where you parked my car.”

“How could I forget? Your stupid soccer mom car is gonna haunt me forever.” Sue snorted and turned on her heel, heading for the elevator. Reed followed, and Ben followed him; Johnny jogged after them and caught up with Sue, asking if he could drive. Her response-- “No way in hell you’re taking my car into midtown traffic--” sparked an argument that went on all the way to the elevator. It could have gone on longer, but one of Johnny’s comebacks (something about “your mother”) caused Reed and Ben to burst out laughing, effectively ending the conversation.

Johnny and Sue treated them both to a bewildered look, and Sue grinned and looked away. Her shoulders shook like she was giggling. Johnny rolled his eyes all the way up and groaned. “Sue, you’ve joined the nerds,” he said. “They’ve infected you. Is it contagious? Do I need to run far away?” Sue in reply laughed out loud. Johnny fell back against the elevator wall, covering his eyes. “Put it on my gravestone,” he declared. “I was taken by zombie nerds.”

“Did you ever consider drama school?” Newly recovered Ben said, straight-faced. “I think you would’ve fit right in.”

“Oh, god, it’s too early for this,” Sue gasped. Reed had fallen into hysterical giggling; Ben’s comment, however, coaxed a laugh and a whoop out of Johnny. Ben was obviously pleased. The elevator doors _ding_ ed open.

Reed didn’t think he’d ever been down to the parking garage. It looked in the dim light like a cave or the sort of ancient temple they made up for _Indiana Jones_ movies; Reed imagined Johnny declaring them all treasure hunters with Johnny as their leader, searching for the ancient chariot of Storms or something like that.

Ben nudged him in the arm. “Something funny?” Reed realized he must be smiling.

“Just a funny thought,” he said. “Are we lost?”

“Nah, fearless leader Johnny-boy is leading us straight and true,” Ben replied. Up ahead, Johnny snorted.

“Maybe sans the straight part,” he said. Ben nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, sans the straight bit,” he agreed. Sue chuckled. Ben’s eyes widened for the barest moment as he realized what he said before he settled back behind a mask of calm. Reed thought he still looked a little uncomfortable, so he bumped their shoulders together. Ben in turn elbowed him. Johnny told them both to get a room as he swung a hard right at a silver SUV.

“Voila,” he said. “Our chariot awaits. Suzie Q, would you do the honors?” Sue rolled her eyes and produced the keys, chirping the unlock. Johnny immediately claimed shotgun, leaving Ben and Reed to bundle into the back as Sue fired up the engine.

“Seat belt,” she said. Johnny grumbled under his breath and put his seat belt on; Reed thought the response was a bit much. He, at least, appreciated the reminder. Ben was already wearing his seat belt, a product of habit more than anything else.

Sue backed the car out of the parking space and wove through the garage into the morning sunshine, pausing for cross traffic. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced, Ben,” she said. “I’m Sue Storm. Nice to meet you, all that.”

“Ben Grimm, likewise,” he replied, waving. Reed felt a funny sense of relief in the fact that thus far, the two of them liked each other.

“Um,” he said. “I never asked, how was the drive in? Did it go alright, no one try to kill you?”

“Went fine,” Johnny replied, and Ben nodded. Johnny added, “Sam Gamgee over here slept the whole way, nothing blew up, and Sue’s soccer mom car served as a natural deterrent for anyone who considered themselves cool. A good evening all around, excepting my dignity.” Ben snorted. Sue allowed a chuckle.

“I _like_ my car,” she added. “I’m sorry it didn’t come with a perforated muffler or whatever it is that constitutes “cool” in your circles.” She braked. The SUV ground to a halt in gridlock. Ben looked out the window and gave a low whistle.

“This crowded, this early?” He said.

“It’s like this all day,” Sue said primly, shifting into park and looking out across traffic. Reed added,

“Long way from Oyster Bay.”

“No kidding,” Ben replied. Johnny turned on the radio. Sue turned it off again. Traffic ground into motion again; Sue put the SUV into gear again, abandoning the radio to Johnny’s mercy. Johnny surfed channels for a long minute as Sue navigated, Ben admired the scenery, and Reed watched Ben; Reed didn’t recognize the channel Johnny landed on, but he recognized the song. He looked at Ben, and Ben looked at the radio, and Ben grinned.

“Blast from the past,” he said to Reed. Reed nodded, wondering at the fluttery feeling in his chest. Was it euphoria? Neither Sue nor Johnny seemed to notice; Sue was bobbing her head the slightest bit, humming along, and Johnny was looking at his phone.Ben hummed along in turn, his smile lighting up his whole face. Reed found himself reflecting it.

“ _Oh, do you wanna be my sidekick, sidekick_?” He sang along, and Ben laughed. Johnny looked up, questioning. “Long story,” Reed said. “Good story, but a long story.”

“I get the feeling we’ve got time for a long story,” Sue said. Ben exhaled, and Reed recognized it as Ben’s trademark _here we go_ exhale. He usually had a Look to go with it, but apparently not today. Reed decided it was better to spare him.

“We danced to this at senior prom,” he said. “My mom made me go, so…” he shrugged. Ben was the only person he’d have gone with, anyway. He might have considered Johnny or Sue, now, but he’d have wound up going with Ben anyway. “We did all the fancy stuff and skipped out after one song. We didn’t even get drunk.” Ben snorted. Johnny treated them both to a look.

“What. The hell,” he said.

“That’s the whole story,” Reed said. Johnny shook his head and looked out the window again.

“You two are ridiculous,” he said.

“Eh. Touche,” Ben said. Sue laughed out loud and braked again.

“Aha!” She said. “Isn’t that serendipitous.” She swerved across a whole lane of traffic and pulled into a completely empty parking space. “Boo-ya! Just half a block out, too.”

“ _Damn,_ ” Johnny said. “That’s amazing. How’d we pull that off?”

“No idea,” Sue said, and parked. They climbed out onto the sidewalk, with Sue chirping the unlock over her shoulder, and hiked the long half block to Starbucks. They wound up walking in single file, which led to a ducklings comment from Johnny (and a snort from Sue, who led the way), weaving around foot traffic from the opposite direction, and Reed just tried to follow Johnny’s shoulders. Ben was behind him, sure to save Reed if he stumbled, but Reed hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. Only so many times in a day, and all.

They marched into Starbucks and waited in line for a good two and a half minutes, and Johnny bought them all coffee (black for Ben, black for Reed, mocha for Sue, and some frothy concoction with more unpronounceable words and delicate procedure than any of Reed’s high school chemistry projects for Johnny), and they all spilled back on to the sidewalk triumphant and maybe a little giddy.

“I hereby declare this mission a success,” Johnny announced on the way back to the car, taking a sip of his machi-something for emphasis. “Just imagine what we could accomplish if we continue this partnership.”

“I still say you should consider drama school,” Ben said, again straight-faced.

“Hey, shut up, Thumbelina. A smart mouth never earned anyone any donuts.”

END

**Author's Note:**

> I do hope that wasn't too ridiculous. As always, you're welcome to hit me up on tumblr to shout about things @captainpeggys!


End file.
